Jeff B. Harmon At War

Come nightfall, I unwisely agree to accompany some Atlacatl officers to the local whorehouse at the edge of town. The whores, including one teenage male prostitute, come out on the lit porch to greet the soldiers. The officers are busy picking their whores for the night, all except for Lieutenant Moreno, who stares intently at me under the dim light. Suddenly, Moreno viciously squeezes both my nipples through my army T-shirt. It’s impossible to tell from the look on his face whether he wants to fuck me or kill me. We have all just come from battle, and an edge of violence lingers outside the whorehouse. – Jeff B. Harmon outside of Boinas Verdes HQ’s